Credentials
by Super Chocolate Bear
Summary: And other Doctor Who one-shots.
1. Credentials

-1Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who._

_**Credentials**_

The denial was stretched thin across her face, wrapping itself around every word that followed.

"Yeah, I can't. I've gotta go find my mum, and… someone's got to look after this stupid lump." She gave the trembling 'man' wrapped around her waist a playful thump and laughed. "so…"

Silence hung in the air. He couldn't _quite _believe that she had turned him down, but didn't let it register on his face. At least, he hoped he didn't. Some of his faces were better at hiding their emotions than others. Five was useless, while Seven was pretty damn good. This face was pretty new, so any poker-face abilities were yet to be discovered.

"Okay."

She didn't say anything. Looked like Nine had a pretty incomprehensible face.

"See you around."

Eyes still locked onto hers, he backed into the TARDIS and closed the door, only allowing his view to drop once he was sure he was enclosed in shadow. With a light jog in his step, the Doctor went to the controls and started up his beloved vehicle. He didn't set a course, he simply let it slip into the Time Vortex. It would give him some time to think.

He wasn't sure why he had offered in the first place. When he first met her he had been _certain _he didn't want her around. Well, sort of. She intrigued him more than anything else.

"_They want to overthrow the human race and destroy you."_

_She didn't reply at all, simply staring back at him with those thoughtful brown eyes._

"_Do you believe me?"_

"_No."_

"_But you're still listening."_

There weren't many balanced, rational human beings who would let such a statement go so easily, least of all someone so young. Yet she had been there with him all the way, listening to him go on about anti-plastic and Nestene consciousnessnessness…ess.

And all the while looking at him with a mix of belief, fear and, more than once, outright anger.

He was fairly sure he knew how to win her over. In fact, he was certain. Just a few words, and she would hop on the TARDIS and he would show her the wonders of the universe. Not that he particularly wanted to. No, not at all. This version of him didn't like companions. Much better to be by himself.

That being said, he nodded and decided to do something he had never done for a travelling companion before.

He supposed her birth would be a good place to start, so after accessing Rose Tyler on the UNIT database (good old Buffalo, never failed), he set the TARDIS and went on his way.

The hospital didn't particularly impress him, but after seeing the Ultra-Hospitals of Temble Six with their Hyper-Ambulances, not much was really going to measure up.

Outside the delivery room, the Doctor waited, leaning against the wall with hands firmly entrenched in jacket pockets. He had only met the mother for a few seconds, but he had no idea she could create such a howl. Hopefully he wouldn't have to deal with her often.

The large doors down the white corridor flew open, and a more than slightly concerned looking man with thinning ginger hair and a rumpled grey suit burst through. He looked to the Doctor, the strange man in the leather coat barely registering as he hurtled past him and into the waiting room.

That would be the dad, then. The Doctor hadn't met him back in 2005. He wondered what had become of him.

After waiting for a few hours (the little shop was really quite a nice diversion; he came to the conclusion there should be more of them in hospitals), he was walking down a corridor with a large window on his right overlooking an army of babies.

He would have found the concept of an army of babies amusing if not for that one time on Stemplox Four…

The Doctor shook the memory away and used keen eyesight to find Rose Tyler's cot. Well. She seemed quiet enough. That was a good sign. A good companion always knew when to shut up.

On to the next stop.

He decided five years was enough, and ended up at an outdoor playground. It looked familiar, and he remembered it was the same place he had spoken to Rose Tyler about the turn of the Earth.

Even though roughly fifteen years younger, he instantly recognised the useless boyfriend wandering around the jungle gym, toddling after someone swinging their way along the bars at a speed far too hazardous for their health.

The Doctor smiled as he recognised a five year old Rose Tyler, fearless as the nineteen year old who swung over a pit of sentient lava to save his life. The grin faltered somewhat as a larger boy, obviously used to getting his own way, thundered over to Ricky (was it Ricky? Could have been Tricky or something along those lines, he wasn't sure) and knocked him over. The boy's shoulder hit a metal bar on the side of the jungle gym, and the Doctor winced.

He considered taking some kind of action (although what he would do was beyond him) when the blonde bundle of pure energy that was Rose Tyler dropped to the ground and started shouting at the older boy quite vehemently. Although the words were lost to the wind blowing through the trees above him, the meaning was incredibly clear.

Good. Companions should never be afraid to stand up for people.

When the boy just shook his head and laughed, Rose Tyler gave him a solid push in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards onto his sizeable rear-end. The Doctor's grin multiplied by about a hundred as the boy wailed and retreated from the battleground. Rose Tyler turned and attended to her fallen… well, he supposed they were too young to be boyfriend and girlfriend _just _yet.

Satisfied, he went back to the TARDIS, and decided another seven years should cover it.

He ended up landing on Boxing Day, something he rarely saw, if he was honest. The last time was probably back at UNIT with Liz or Jo. He didn't understand it then, and was pretty much indifferent to the whole thing now. The Doctor found that he was suddenly weary of family matters. Domestics felt quite undesirable. He supposed it was understandable, considering what he been through before his regeneration. One could hardly blame his psyche for wanting him to prevent any further attachments.

And yet, here he was, thick black boots entrenched in the snow as he watched intrepid explorer Rose Tyler on her brand new red bicycle, pedalling for all she was worth. The wheels sloshed mightily through icy puddles, and every time it looked as though the bike would tip over on the smooth ground, a quick tug of the handlebars one way or the other would prevent disaster.

Agility and daring. Both good companion traits.

One more journey, and that would be the deciding factor. Four more years seemed like a fair number, and the TARDIS embedded itself on the same spot of Rose Tyler's estate, except this time, in 2002. Stepping onto the grass, he was acutely aware of something coming down on his head at speed. He stepped to the side as an electric guitar cracked against the side of the TARDIS and tumbled to the grass beside him.

Eyebrows raked halfway up his wrinkled forehead, the Doctor looked up and found the door to the Tyler residence wide open. Rather than risk a hasty regeneration from some random piece of furniture crashing down on his head, the Doctor made his way into the building and climbed the stairs, heading for the balcony-walkway that led to all the flats.

"Rose, darling, don't-"

"Y'know what, mum?"

That was her. The pitch was that little bit higher, but it was definitely her. And she had been crying.

"I think, after everything Jimmy Stone did, I've got the right to throw some of his stuff out of the window, don't you?"

"What if you hit someone? They could sue you for-"

"Would you just shut up?" Her voice cracked. "Please… just _shut up…"_

Her voice devolved into sobs, and her mother's once hard voice softened considerably as she (presumably) sat down next to her daughter and embraced her.

"It's all right, darling. We'll sort you out. Mickey said he'd come over later. Won't that be nice?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. Yes, that ape was _just _what someone needed after heavy emotional trauma.

But still, the Doctor took note of the name Jimmy Stone. If Rose ever brought it up, he would make it a point to listen. Or at the very least help her get some kind of petty revenge. Nothing too severe - he was a responsible Time Lord, after all - but still, something to ease the old wounds.

And this showed him something else. She was passionate. Yet another highly sought after quality in a companion. His mind made up, the Doctor retreated to the TARDIS and returned to a few seconds after he had left the nineteen year old Rose Tyler and her 'boyfriend'.

Barely a second wasted, he whipped open the door and thrust his head out casually. They certainly hadn't got far. They had both turned around to look at him.

"By the way, did I mention?" He smiled as he spoke, knowing the effect the words would have. "It also travels in time."

After waiting a moment to gauge her reaction (which was subtle at best), the Doctor leant back and walked back up to the control panel. He watched the final exchange through the monitor.

"Thanks," she said, leaving a befuddled Ricky staring right back at her.

"Thanks for what?"

The smile was almost evident as she thought of her answer. "Exactly…"

And after a single, brief kiss, she turned and ran to the TARDIS, winning smile beaming as she went.

Rose Tyler, the Doctor's companion. Although he realised as he watched her slam close the door behind her, he could probably get away with thinking of her as Rose now. Because after checking her references, the Doctor knew that Rose Tyler had all the right credentials.

--

(A/N: I'm worried that last line came across as a bit too rumpy-pumpy, but if Stephen Moffat can get away with all the dancing metaphors, I guess 'credentials' is okay.

Tell me what you think!)


	2. Old Concerns

Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who._

_**Old Concerns**_

Wilf usually slept quite soundly. He kept busy during the day, tried to walk everywhere, met up with the old Silver Cloak lot, helped Silvia with the shopping and always did his best to spend time with Donna and Shaun. That last one was getting more and more difficult by the day, considering how busy they were. Holidays here, business trips for Shaun there… but Wilf always ended up conking out and sleeping through the night without trouble.

Those first few days after Christmas had left him a bit restless. All that running about, people looking like the Master, zipping up to spaceships with Cactus… no, what was it… Cacti. And then that terrible look on the Doctor's face after he stepped out of that booth, all of his scars vanishing…

Maybe it was the bed that was giving him trouble. It was all big and expensive with a mattress that was supposed to do something fancy to your back while you slept. Wilf just thought it was too soft.

Could be the room, or the house. He _was _in a mansion. Some part of him just couldn't get used to it. When he was younger he had slept all over the place, chairs, benches, floors, fields… but there was something about trying to sleep in a room that was so big you could hear an echo. Unnerving, that was it. It didn't feel right.

Then again, if he _had _been sleeping well, he never would have heard it. That noise that you couldn't really describe. Grinding? Groaning? It made his heart skip a beat whenever it echoed out. Moving to the window, he saw the light on top of the box shining in the front garden. The door was facing away from him, and he saw light spill out onto the ground, a single gangly figure silhouetted on the lawn.

Wilf squinted, struggling to see him as the man stepped out, closing the doors behind him and locking the door. And then he was gone, somehow not setting off a single security light. A skip in his step he hadn't felt in some time, Wilf rushed to the bedroom door and out onto the landing.

As he moved towards the stairs overlooking the lobby, he heard the sound of the Doctor's screwdriver doo-dad working on the front door. The door opened, but Wilf still couldn't see him. He wasn't wearing his long coat, and his hair had grown. That was about all he could make out.

The alarm beeped on the wall, and the Doctor pressed his screwdriver to it, shushing it as he did so.

"Hello?" Wilf whispered loudly, making the Doctor jump suddenly. He whirled on the spot, pointing the green tip of the light in Wilf's direction. Was it always green?

"Oh. Hello there," he said whispered back, flicking off the screwdriver. It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but the Doctor's fidgety hands made it look like he was at a loss for words. "How've you been?"

Wilf shrugged. "All right, you know. How about you, are you…? Your face, I mean, is it-"

"All new, yeah," he replied distractedly, turning on the spot and taking in the lobby. "This is different."

"Yeah, well, she won the lottery. Set her up for life, you have."

The Doctor put one foot on the bottom step and looked ready to come up. "Is she here?"

Wilf nodded, his mouth hanging slightly open. "Sleeping at the moment. Shaun's off on a contracting job in Nottingham and Silvia's staying with some friends of hers. Just me and Donna at the moment."

"Right…" he muttered, nodding to himself. "Good, good. I just wanted to… yeah, check something."

"With Donna?"

He nodded, walking up the stairs. "I was at a wedding with some friends, and the dress reminded me of… things. And I started thinking, well, I'm _always_ thinking, but I started thinking about this specific thing, this Meta-Crisis thing, and me regenerating, and I started to wonder. About things."

"You mean…" Wilf gulped as the Doctor reached the landing, his new face still clouded by the dark. "You can fix her? Make her better?"

"Don't know," he said quietly, "Might have done it just by dying. Where is she?"

Wilf nodded to the door at the far end of the corridor, and the Doctor started walking quite briskly. He struggled to keep up, as he had last time through the Naismith mansion and the alien ship. The Doctor stopped at the door and quietly opened it.

Donna and Shaun's room was the biggest, which didn't surprise anyone when they saw the mansion. The Temple-Noble mansion. No-one had believed it.

Excited eyes followed the Doctor as he walked to Donna's side of the bed and switched on the lamp there. He finally got a look at the Doctor's new face. He was a gangly looking thing, all knees and elbows and big hands. His hair was bigger than before, not as modern and sticky-up-y as before. Same went for his clothes - they looked like they belonged on… well, Wilf, or at least someone in the Silver Cloak.

And his face… he was so young now. He looked like a student.

"Blimey. You _have _changed."

The Doctor looked at him with a face that was halfway between anger and just tragically sad. Wilf corrected himself. Definitely not young.

"I like the bowtie, though."

A little smirk made him look like the twenty-something year old his face said he was. "Yeah, it's cool."

He pointed at Donna with an awkward wiggling finger, like he was afraid to touch her. "She's… happy, though, yeah?"

Wilf took a breath. He always struggled when _he _asked that. Because she was happy, she really was. But she was so much more with him. So much happier, and better, and…

"She is. Always laughing away, you know her."

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah…"

When neither of them said anything more, the Doctor sat beside Donna on the bed and put both hands on either side of her head. He closed his eyes and bowed his pretty big head. Wilf padded around to the other side of the bed and leaned over to see what was happening. Which was nothing much.

After only a few seconds, the Doctor sat back up again, eyes open and on the wall. He looked at Wilf and nodded at the door before switching off the lamp and leaving the room.

Wilf clicked Donna's door shut as he left. He gave the Doctor a moment before saying anything. "Well?"

"It's better. Not gone, but better."

"What do you mean?"

The Doctor looked frustrated. "I mean… big space ship hovers over London again, she'll be fine. But she sees my face, my other face, the one that she knew… that could be a problem."

"W- how did that happen?"

"Her Time Lord knowledge came from me. _That _me. And when I stopped being him and started being me, that connection was broken. But there's still the other me on a parallel world, looking like the me that I used to be, and she's got part of him, who is me, but the old me, in her head, so there's still a remnant there."

"Oh." He gulped again, and wished he had some water, or a cup of tea. "It doesn't have anything to do with everyone forgetting, then?"

His eyes adjusting to the dark, Wilf saw the Doctor frown at him. "What?"

"Everyone forgot. One day they were talking about those Daleks and them planets in the sky on the news, on the street, everywhere, and the next minute no-one knows what I'm talking about. I even had to remind Silvia about it."

Hands in pockets, the Doctor looked down at the floor in thought. "Hadn't thought about that, but yeah, probably helped." He put a hand on Wilf's shoulder. "Good thing you remembered though, eh?"

"Yeah, well," Wilf laughed, "Hardly gonna forget something like that, am I?"

"You'd be surprised," the Doctor sighed, and started walking for the stairs, though at a slower pace than before.

"Ay, just out of curiosity… why _did _everyone forget? Was that you?"

"No. Yes. In a way, though I didn't mean to. Though, technically, it was something else. Don't know yet. Work in progress, I should say. Basically, it never happened. But that doesn't mean that things that never happened didn't happen, just that their not happening happened to… not happen."

"Oh. Right you are," he mumbled, baffled. Wilf chuckled as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Haven't changed that much, then, eh?"

"Well, that's an old saying, isn't it? Change, something, something, stays the same? Is that from Earth? Or Sittol Five? Maybe Clom…"

Wilf waved his hands around, nodding. "I know what you mean." He studied the young/old man/alien in front of him. "You _are _him, though, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Course I am."

"It's just… when we were in that café, you said it was like dying."

"Yeah. Course it is."

"But you're the same bloke."

"Yeah. And… no. I was a bit…" he paused, his mouth moving about like he was tasting the next few words. "I was scared. At the time. Didn't really explain it that well. It's death, and it isn't. Because I'm still here, I just think and look different. But not exactly like him. Me. Him _and _me. Each me is a unique me, and I never know if the next me is going to be the same me as… me. Understand?"

"Not really."

"Oh. Thought it was pretty clear," the Doctor muttered, looking very dissatisfied with himself. He suddenly put his face strangely close to Wilf's, staring into his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's…" Wilf waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing."

"No, no, that's quite a question."

"I was…" He couldn't quite bring himself to look at the Doctor, awkwardly shifting his hands to his hips to behind his back. "…I thought I killed you."

The Doctor's eyes, once so intent on Wilf's, suddenly shifted to some point over his shoulder. "Ah. That's never… happened before. Sorry. Didn't think. Shouldn't have taken my worries out on you."

"It's all right. I know now, don't I?"

"No. I mean, yes, you do, but no, it's not all right." He didn't say anything more on the subject, taking several breaths as if he was going to say something, then backing down. He finally nodded to the door. "Anyway, yeah… should be going. Got people waiting to be picked up."

Surprised, Wilf's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, so… you've got someone?"

The Time Lord nodded. "Married couple."

"You're _married?"_

"What? No," he scoffed. He paused for a moment before adding, "Well, sort of. Not sure. She won't tell me. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm travelling _with _a married couple."

"Oh." Wilf laughed. "That's new for you, isn't it?"

"Hadn't thought about it. But they're very nice. The wife's bossy." He frowned, becoming troubled. "And ginger. Bit of a recurring theme." Distracted, he shook the thought off and opened the door.

For a moment Wilf thought he was just going to leave without a word. All that worry, all that heartache, and he was just going to go swanning off.

Suddenly, the Doctor stopped, whirling on the spot in the doorway. "Good to see you, Wilfred."

He offered all he could to this impossible man on his doorstep. A man with a different face, but still the same one who had died to save him. Wilf saluted.

"It was my honour, sir."

The Doctor smiled, an expression so familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time. Then he turned and walked away, just as he had in the rain, and again through the graveyard.

Except, as Wilf closed the door, he couldn't help but note the difference.

This time, the Doctor was happy.

* * *

(A/N: All those cracks in time and things never happening really got me thinking about stuff that happened in series four, especially with Donna, and whether they still, er… happened. At the end of the Big Bang 2, I think everything was back as it was except for memories - people who need to remember the events remember them. That way Henry Van Statten can have no knowledge of a Dalek, but Adelaide Brooke can still be inspired by one during the invasion.

Also, I always thought the Doctor was a little cruel and selfish with Wilf - he misrepresented regeneration a little, I think, and left poor Wilf thinking he'd been the death of this man he and his granddaughter adored. Which, y'know, is fine, because the Doctor isn't perfect; he'skind of full of himself and a little blind to what others are feeling. So I thought it'd be nice to have the Doctor confronted by that. And then leg it, obviously, because he's the Doctor. J

Anyway, reviews please!)


	3. Four Times Ten

Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who._

_**Four Times Ten**_

_One_

River checked her watch, and wondered, not for the first time since she had met him, if the Doctor was early or late. There was that time he had been early on Sinnol and run into trouble with the Judoon. And had then been late, without a word of apology. She had only been able to find him because he was shouting 'Geronimo' from somewhere across the town. Then there was the time when he was a month late, by which time she had left the planet and it was a nuclear wasteland (she was the only one on the planet at the time, which was lucky).

But most of the time, he was prompt. Magically so. Sometimes she would send a message and the wind would pick up immediately, followed by that glorious sound.

And, in fact, there it was now. She turned around, smiling and watching as that box faded into view, like a ghost pushing itself into the world.

Her smile faltered when she noticed it was different. The blue was darker, faded, even. A symbol on the front was missing.

"…Doctor?

The doors flung themselves open, and a skinny man with spiky hair and wild eyes poked his head out, grinning madly as soon as he saw her. "Ah, I _thought _that was you! Not many other people who could assemble a time beacon repeating 'Hello, Sweetie'. "

She frowned, looking at him sideways. His face was in the diary, she was sure. Reaching into the satchel hanging from her shoulder, she started to root around for the blue book when who she assumed was the Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the TARDIS.

"So, what's the problem?" he asked loudly, bouncing around the console. "Want a picnic? Cabbage problem?"

River tried not to seem too surprised by the appearance of the TARDIS. It looked older than she was used to, more organic. Blinking the thought away, she took out her diary.

"Shall we do diaries?"

"Hm? Oh, never mind that, I haven't seen you in ages! Let's do something."

She smiled. "Like what?"

"Anything! Your choice! Whole wide universe out there, River! Let's go somewhere," he ran up to her, his face close to hers. That was when she realised just how pretty this face was. Lovely brown eyes. "Maybe have a dance, eh?" Then he winked at her and went back to the console.

"You're in a good mood."

"Why wouldn't I be? I've got all of space and time at my fingertips, nothing to hold me down, no limits! Ha!"

"Well," she said, clearing her throat, "as much as I'd love a good dance, I've got something I'd like you to help me with."

"Oh. Sure, sure," he breathed excitedly, hands in his pockets as he sidled around the console. "Help around the house? Need some shelves putting up, that sort of thing?"

"Not exactly."

"Didn't think so."

And so she explained. Radical cult infiltrating a space station, suspected of wanting to bring legendary Red Carnivorous Maw back to life (she left out the part about it going toward her parole board hearing, just in case of timelines). And off they went. This face was full of energy. Running, shouting, laughing, grinning, winking, cheeky energy. Although he did have an odd obsession with bananas. She thought that he was a younger Doctor, younger than she had ever seen him. But then she would catch him stopping for a moment, and suddenly he would look so tired, so… old. Ancient, even.

Maybe he was further along than any Doctor she had met before. But then… he had smiled and nodded when she mentioned the Byzantium from her diary. That was something that the Doctor had said in passing with his baby face, and she had noted it down, just in case it helped her put together some kind of timeline for him.

There wasn't going to be much luck there, obviously.

In the end, the Red Cult (as they were imaginatively named) were using telepathic spores to make everyone in the solar system hungry, transmitting that hunger to the Red Carnivorous Maw, helping it to grow into a monster that could consume planets. It was also, apparently, from the dawn of time. The Doctor had snorted at that one, which probably hadn't been the best idea, considering they were tied up and waiting for execution at the time.

But everything ended up fine. He still had a penchant for having brilliant ideas at _just _the right time. The Red Cult were arrested, and the Red Carnivorous Maw…

"…is more of a Blue Vegetarian Blob now," the Doctor said, holding the tennis ball sized lump of blue in his hand. He was studying it intently with his glasses on as they walked to the TARDIS. River decided she liked the glasses.

He unlocked the TARDIS doors and pushed the door open. Slipping his glasses away into his blue jacket, this new Doctor leant against the doorframe, looking down at her.

"Want to come inside?"

She smiled. "Are we going somewhere?"

A twinkle in his eye that she hadn't been expecting, the Doctor said simply, "Nope."

Frowning, River shook her head, though still smiling. "You're so different, you know that?"

His sly smirk faltered ever so slightly. "Am I?"

"Very. I'm not saying it's bad, it's nice, it's…" She looked him up and down and nodded. "It's very nice. Just… unexpected."

"Well, that's me," he said, grinning. "Unexpected. Look the word up in the dictionary, there's a picture of me. Well, lots of me's. So. What do you think?" he asked, nodding towards the doors. "You up for some dancing?"

River studied him for a few moments longer before checking her watch. "Some dancing sounds great."

He sighed. "But…"

"I've got…" she tried not to glance down at the security bracelet around her ankle. "…responsibilities."

The word seemed to strike something in him, and his body language abruptly closed off to her, his face blanking over as he stared over her shoulder. "Yeah. Responsibility. Can't argue with that."

Then he took a loud breath through his nose, looking at the TARDIS like a safe haven. "Well, I'll be off. Places to go, people to save and… annoy - it happens, I'm brilliant, people get jealous - and, unfortunately, there's only one me to go around, so-"

She grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss. The Doctor seemed to pull away for a few moments before he relaxed, throwing his arms around her and holding her close. Too close, like he was afraid to let go.

Then he pulled her off, holding her at arms length. Shocked and pleased at the same time, the Doctor had to clear his throat before he spoke. There was something terrible in his eyes. A fear she didn't see from him very often.

"I'll… see you."

He silently disappeared into the TARDIS before she could say anything back, gently clicking the door shut. She reached hesitantly for the door, and pressed her hand against it, holding it there even as the TARDIS dematerialised, leaving her with her hand held up in a silent goodbye.

* * *

_Two_

Sometimes, just sometimes, she wished the Doctor hadn't had such a profound effect on her. Of course, everyone was affected by him, but she just couldn't help herself. All the time, constantly thinking about what he would do, how he would do it, what he would say… how he would celebrate with her afterwards…

But he had definitely affected her. She remembered a time she would have been happy to lie on the beach wearing next to nothing and just enjoy the heat and the sound of the sea.

Not anymore. Now she was all 'Let's go exploring' or 'Can't lie about doing nothing all day'. She hated those couples that started to become each other, like they were losing their identities, their uniqueness, meshing into one messy, bickering person.

Kettle? There's a pot calling. Says you're black.

River Song blinked the thoughts away and got back to digging with the ridiculously tiny spade. Of course, lying on this particular beach for a sunbathe wouldn't have been a good idea at _any _point in her life. As it was, she was running on a schedule of scans and patrols. And how long it would take for the search party from Stormcage to find her. It wasn't her fault she read a report about a frankly irresistible archaeological find that the planet's government stubbornly refused to allow access to. And she was bored. That didn't help either.

Why did she enjoy digging up these old things so much? Why couldn't she have been one of those glamorous, jet-setting rogues, like a cat burglar or a spy? But no. She liked digging up old things. And then she didn't even _sell_ them, as any sane person would. Oh no, she preferred to put them in a museum where people could look at them, most of them bored out of their skulls because they had been forced to go by their spouse/parents/teacher.

She sighed. Such was life.

Well, such was _her _life.

She hit something solid. Her heart skipped. Tossing the spade away, she started shovelling with her gloved hands, the dusty pebbles kicking up a cloud of dust around her as she grinned. He had once told her that she reminded him of himself when she grinned like that, though he never told her which face. It was the thing that changed the most about him, and she always found herself studying it; his smiles. They were always so different.

Obviously, the sense of style changed, the face, the hair, the body… oh, those bodies. The TARDIS would change now and again, too, but the fundamentals were always the same. There was always that… Doctor-ness about him. But the smile changed a lot.

Her hands reached their target. Letting out a shaky breath, River pulled out the dull metal box. It was about the size of a jewellery box, rounded at the corners. It had lasted surprisingly well, considering how vicious the war had been. Hopefully the contents had been just as well preserved. Breathless, she pulled a glove off with her teeth and reached for the lid.

A gunshot rang out, and River whipped her head about for the source. Another. Then another. Following the noise, she realised it was coming from inland, on the other side of the grassy hill that obscured the beach. She checked her watch. The scrambler she had attached to their sensor array was supposed to last for another ten minutes. A foot patrol most have noticed it.

Letting out a frustrated breath, she stuffed the box into her rucksack and slung it over her shoulders. Erring on the safe side, she pulled her blaster from its holster, thumbed off the safety.

Someone came running over the hill, and she took cover behind a thick wadge of shrubbery. She took aim.

Then she noticed the big hair. The long coat. The fact that he had what looked like cabbage under one arm and a lamp in the other hand.

He didn't notice her, instead watching his footwork as his trainers slipped down the steep hill. As he got closer to the bottom, he decided to skip the last few steps and leapt onto the beach, kicking up sand as he landed. There was a brief moment of indecision while he looked from right to left, choosing a route.

Two guards emerged at the top of the hill. "Halt!"

Looking very put upon, the Doctor sighed and turned, dropping the lettuce and lamp to the floor. They thumped gently on the sand, and he put up his hands.

"Look, now, honestly, do we really need to do this?"

The guards approached, rifles drawn. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

"Oh, well, that could be anywhere," the Doctor couldn't help but point out. "I could put my hands on my shoes and you'd be able to see them."

River rolled her eyes. The guards seemed similarly unamused as they reached him. One stood in front, rifle raised, while the other went around the back and cuffed the Doctor's hands behind him.

Cricking her neck, River took aim and fired. A red bolt crackled forth, hitting the guard in the arm and sending the rifle flying. Much to her amusement, the Doctor looked as shocked as the guards, but recovered quickly. Leg swinging around, the Doctor whirled on the spot and kicked the cabbage up and into the other guard's face. Suitably surprised, the guard stumbled back long enough for River to rush at him, swinging her rucksack down onto the back of his head, putting him out cold.

A little breathless, River looked over at the Doctor. "Hello, sweetie. I…" She cast a cursory glance over the cabbage and the lamp. "…don't even want to know."

The Doctor, meanwhile, was watching her with an expression not completely different from a deer in headlights. "Oh," he said lightly, his mouth bobbing open and shut in a badly hidden case of 'loss for words'. "It's you."

She tilted her head at him with a smile. "Not at your most romantic, sweetie."

"Well, no, but… w- you… um… how are you?"

"As always, happy to see you," she breathed, walking around him and stepping in front of the injured guard, who was crawling towards his rifle. Without a word, she flipped her gun around in her hand and whacked the grip down on the guard's head.

"W- don't do that!" the Doctor scolded. "You've already shot him - and can I just say I wasn't too keen on that, either - no need to add a bang on the head."

"Would you rather be in handcuffs under armed guard? Usually you're very anti-handcuffs. Well, with people you don't know, anyway," she said, smirking.

With the closest thing to a blush she had seen from him warming his cheeks, the Doctor cleared his throat and mumbled something under his breath.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said…" he trailed off into a mumble again.

Still smiling, River put her blaster away.

"Do you want the cuffs to come off? I'm just as happy to leave you in them."

Groaning, he loudly and quickly said, "I suppose you're right thank you for shooting the guard."

"Thank you," River said with a sweet smile before scooping up her rucksack and slipping it on. "Where did you leave the TARDIS, then? I need a lift."

The Doctor nodded in the direction he had come. "That way, and could you undo these now please?"

"All in good time. I haven't seen you all pretty boy in a while." She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "I intend to enjoy it."

Once more words seemed to fail him. Feeling suitably on top, River started walking.

"Could you at least pick up the cabbage?" he whined, jogging up alongside her. "Cabbages are like bananas. Well, not taste-wise, I meant more that, y'know, I like bananas-"

"'Bananas are good'," she finished with him, smiling. "Always comes down to fruit and veg with you, doesn't it?"

"Well, got to keep healthy, don't you- incidentally, why do you need a lift, did you not bring a ship?"

River checked her watch. "Yes, but the scrambler I put on the sensor array to hide me is going to be found in three, two, one…"

Much further away, echoing from the royal temple, alarms sounded. The Doctor looked over and smiled.

"Ah, well then. That makes sense." He looked back to River, grinning wildly. "Only one thing for it, I suppose. Allons-y!"

And off they went, running through the grassy fields for the TARDIS. The Doctor shoved his chest out towards her as they ran.

"Sonic screwdriver, left-"

"-jacket pocket," she finished, yanking it out and applying it to the cuffs. They clicked and fell to the ground, freeing up the Doctor's arms to swing around madly as they so often did.

She tossed the screwdriver back to him as they turned a corner round a rocky hill, revealing the faded blue of the TARDIS. Admittedly she preferred the more colourful version - felt more magical - but any TARDIS was a good TARDIS at the moment. The Doctor fumbled in his jacket for the key for a few moments before finally throwing her a 'I'm about to be clever' look and snapping his fingers.

The doors flew open as they reached them, and they ran inside. She closed the doors as he charged around the console, hitting each button with far more vigour than was really necessary.

"One day this control room is going to fall apart," she warned, letting the rucksack fall to the ground beside the support pillar where he had tossed his coat.

"Nah, sturdy as a rock. Aren't you, dear?" he asked loudly, patting the side of the console fondly. As if in reply, the rotor started up, and the engines began their groaning.

River walked around the console slowly, running her hand along as she went. A book with all his faces in, and yet she still didn't know what order these faces came in. Was this TARDIS before the one with the bar for her high heels and the blue stabilisers? It looked older. But then again, so did the Doctor, sometimes.

And Lord knew it was difficult getting information out of him. She was never sure what he knew - he rarely acknowledged any of the events she talked about. Usually it was his companions who ended up blurting something that filled her in on where (when) he was.

"So," she said, once she was sure they were away, "shall we do diaries?"

The Doctor stared at her with those unreadable eyes for a few moments before breaking out of it. "Nah, don't bother. Let's just leave out the spoilers, this time. Catch up later."

She shrugged and collapsed into the chairs beside the console. He was still stood up, checking readouts and flicking random switches.

"So," she said slowly. "What do you want to do?"

"Hm? Oh," he croaked, avoiding her eyes, "thought I'd drop you off, let you get on with… whatever you do when you're not with me."

"You mean archaeology?"

"That's the ticket. Dusting, cataloguing, other… archaeology… things…"

"Really?"

He glanced over at her. "Yeah," he said quickly. "No need to hold you up any more than I have."

She sighed. "You're not holding me up. You never hold me up. Well, maybe sometimes."

A sour look crossed the Doctor's face. "Look, I just think that-"

"Am I really that unpleasant?"

That made him stop, and his deep brown eyes stared over at her, the age and pain making her wonder yet again just where and when this Doctor was in his timeline.

"No," he said quietly, smiling. "You really aren't."

A little taken aback, River managed to recover quickly, putting on an easy smile. "So why don't we do something before you send me back to my dull little archaeologist existence?"

Looking pained, the Doctor stared up at the time rotor for a long time. "I can't," he whispered, and looked over at her again. He looked so tired. "I just can't. Not now, not… so soon."

The sound of the TARDIS engine filled the control room. It was strange how one minute it could fade into the background, then roar like a monstrous beast the next.

"You've lost someone."

He didn't say anything.

"Recently?"

A slow nod. "Yeah."

"Anyone I know?"

His mouth opened to answer, then reformed into a sad smile. "Spoilers."

With a sigh, River pushed herself out of her chair and walked over to him, putting a hand over his.

"The Cartel system. Somewhere close to the same date would be lovely."

The Doctor nodded, looking a little embarrassed by the whole ordeal. "Thank you."

"Any time, sweetie."

The next time she saw the Doctor they quickly became busy with the Pandorica and Romans and starting the Big Bang 2, so she didn't get much opportunity to talk to him about it. She knew more about the timeline of the face that wore the bowtie than she did this spiky haired, suit clad incarnation. And she had no idea who came first, so talking to him about it could change timelines and all that other stuff the Doctor hated so much.

Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey indeed.

* * *

_Three_

Arms crossed, River Song rested against the wall, finger tapping nervously. It wasn't every day you received a psychic message from the Doctor, transmitted through the TARDIS and eventually winding up at the phone outside your prison cell. Fortunately she was allowed to receive visitors at this point. Convincing them she could have the visit outside with no surveillance, however, was something else completely. Although the security bracelet that linked her ankles together and stopped her from going more than twenty feet from the building probably helped.

He rarely called her. It was something she had come to accept about him; he was constantly busy. Well, no, he wasn't, but he was constantly occupied and always, always thinking, and not necessarily about her. In fact, she was almost certain she didn't occupy as many of his thoughts as she would like.

The thoughts were brushed from her mind by the emerging TARDIS, wheezing and groaning as it appeared. It was the dark TARDIS, the one Pretty Boy used.

There was a troubling silence where nothing happened, and she cautiously approached the doors, her feet shuffling along the floor.

"Doctor?"

The door opened, and he stood in the doorway somewhat stiffly. "Hi."

"Um… hello." She tried not to let on where exactly they were; not knowing where this Doctor came in the order of things made her especially cautious. "Not used to calls from you."

"Yeah," he said quickly, like he was holding his breath. His face twitched, and he winced.

River frowned. "Everything… all right?"

"Oh, definitely. I'm always all right. What's five hundred thousand rads between friends?"

Her face dropped, along with her stomach. "Oh my God. You're…"

He hissed, shaking his head. "It's all right. Already sorted, I'm just… holding it in. Needed to say goodbye before I changed. I mean, I'll see you again, but…" He blinked the thought away, and smiled. "Anyway."

Reaching up, she placed a tentative hand against his face, rubbing her thumb against his cheek. "I'll miss you. Like this."

"Oh, _you'll_ see _me_ again. That's not the problem." He laughed to himself. "Sorry. Spoilers."

"I'll let it go, in this case."

Something stung him in his chest, and he struggled to keep it under control. "Gotta go," he said abruptly. "One last person to see."

Tears dropped down her face, and she gently kissed him on the cheek, quoting a story he had told her about himself. "'To days to come'."

Staring into her eyes, he smiled the saddest smile, his bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. "'All my love to long ago'."

Then he backed away and closed the door. There was a heartbreaking pause before the TARDIS took off again.

As she went back to her cell, she tried not to think about the Doctor limping to the console, desperate to say goodbye to one last loved one. So sentimental, with every face. God, how she wished the Doctor were here with her now. Any one of him.

* * *

_Four_

He hoped he wasn't getting this wrong. The timing, not the picnic. He was fairly sure he was getting the picnic right. As rotten as his luck had the capacity to get, he doubted even he could mess up a picnic.

But he wasn't sure if this was the right time. Was he supposed to take her to Asgard with a different face? Although she had asked _him_, with this face, whether they had had the picnic on Asgard yet, so maybe this was correct. But he only had the idea to have the picnic because she had put the idea of the picnic in his head in the first place, _after _she had done it but _before _he had.

Maybe that was going to be their whole relationship. Doing things and going places simply because time dictated they had to. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey didn't half get tiresome sometimes.

Lying back on the makeshift picnic blanket that was actually his coat, he watched River unpack the Venusian wine, humming a gentle tune.

He smiled. Maybe wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey could take a back seat to him enjoying himself. Just this once.

"You're thinking again," she said warningly, without looking.

"Can't help it, it's my main thing."

"That and not dying."

His smile faltered a little. "Well, I'm better at thinking."

"True."

The Doctor wondered, not for the first time, if River had ever watched him die, as he had watched her. How many of his faces had she met? He didn't have many to go, when he thought about it.

He took a deep breath. "Yeah, maybe I should put the thinking on the back burner for a bit."

Leaning over, he tried to see inside the picnic basket. Where in the TARDIS River had found it, he didn't know, but she seemed to know more about his ship than made him entirely comfortable. And yet, at the same time, it said to him that he had a future. A future with her, with different faces… all of it leading to the Library.

He remembered his first time seeing her since the Library, on that beach. At first, he had just wanted to run away from her, remove her from his life and maybe save hers. Nothing wrong with a little rewriting here and there. He couldn't travel with her - it only ended in misery, and he couldn't bear to hurt anyone else. Jackson Lake had described them as 'bright and shining'. They were. They really were. Christina had been like a star, fantastic and nearly blinding. But he wouldn't be responsible for anyone else burning away because of him. Never again.

But then he had remembered that he wouldn't say goodbye to River, show up with a new suit and a haircut and give her his sonic screwdriver until _after _he had regenerated. So he thought that maybe he could be selfish for a little bit, enjoy River while he had this face. She didn't seem to have any desire to travel with him, just to say hello now and again. It fit.

"Thinking!" River announced, handing over a glass of wine.

"Yep, yep, sorry," he said quickly, taking the glass and clinking it against hers. They took a sip, eyes on each other over their glasses.

With a smile that made his hearts beat just that tiny bit faster, River looked up at the sky. "I don't think I've ever been here."

"Well… it's not really in your neighbourhood."

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah…" he murmured, taking it in. It was as though a rainbow had exploded, leaving clouds of multicoloured light against the black velvet of space, constantly shifting, growing, shrinking, changing… but still remaining fundamentally the same. Reminded him of someone.

"So," River asked slowly, peeling her gaze down from the light show above them and onto him. "You're travelling alone at the moment?"

"Spoilers," he said slyly. "I said no diaries this time."

It seemed the safest way, he thought. The less he knew about her activities with his future self, the less set in stone the future could be. More malleable, changeable. And, to be honest, he didn't want to talk about it. Though if there was anyone he _could_ tell, he supposed it was her.

She sighed. "I don't need names or dates or places. Just a bit of conversation, chat, you know. Talking. It's in the top three of your main things."

"Is it?"

River nodded. "I've got a list."

"Wondered where that went."

A shared smile. Then, "So?"

"So, what?"

"Travelling alone?"

"Well… yeah. At the moment, yeah. Seemed better this way. Safer."

"Safer."

"Yep."

"Uh-huh."

He frowned, though still amused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

He looked up at her, watching the bending lights of Asgard above them, her legs tucked behind her, with the most serene smile on her face, and he said, "I know what you're thinking."

"That'd be a new one, for you," she said, still not looking at him.

The Doctor shifted himself up into a sitting position, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them. The wine swirled in the glass, and he stared down at it. "You think I need someone."

"Couldn't hurt."

"Oh," he scolded, his voice barely a whisper, "it could. It _really_ could."

River stared at him for a moment before putting down her glass of wine and shuffling over to sit beside him. "Well," she said slowly, dancing her fingertips through his hair, "if you can't travel with someone, at least enjoy being with the people you've got. You know, live for the moment. You're good at that."

He let out a small breath of a laugh. "One of my main things?"

"I'd say it's number one."

He slowly leant back until he was lying down, staring up at the sky. "Lie down with me."

"Quite an invitation."

"Oi," he muttered, though he still smiled. Acquiescing with a tip of the head, River lay down beside him, both of them looking up at the Asgard lights.

The Doctor didn't usually like silence. It unnerved him, made him restless, left him too much time in his own head. But here, with her, his mind was, just for the moment, blissfully silent. Her hand slipped into his down by their sides. It was strange, this intimacy with someone he had only just met. The fact she knew him so well, it was… well, it was disarming and comforting and terrifying and wonderful, all rolled into one big 'Spoiler'. Maybe he would feel different if he was travelling with someone, but just the two of them… he could enjoy this. Just for now.

But then his brain sparked, and he couldn't stop himself.

"Am I different?" he asked quietly.

"Hm?"

Reluctant to continue but knowing he had committed himself, the Doctor cleared his throat before speaking. "You know, from… me."

"Oh, yes and no," she said casually. The fact she understood what he meant warmed his hearts. Looking over at him, she frowned at his troubled expression. "Why do you ask?"

He let out a loud breath, his lips flapping as he thought about it. "I don't know… things have happened recently. I've been told about things that are going to happen. Bad things."

"'Things' with you are always bad. And really, _really _complicated."

"Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey?"

She smiled. "Would it be a spoiler if I told you that's the only thing you've ever written in my diary?"

"Yeah. But never mind, what's a couple of spoilers between friends?"

Her electric grin faltered a little at that. He decided not to ask, and sighed, returning his gaze upwards.

"I hope I don't forget myself."

"What?"

"If I change," he clarified, not quite feeling courageous enough to look her in the eye. "I saw an old friend of mine recently. She said no-one would ever forget me."

"Very smart friend."

"Oh," he croaked, "absolutely. I just… did she mean _me _me, or… me?" He turned his head to look at her, eye to eye. "I never know, River. Whenever I change, I never know if I'll still be me. All I've ever got is hope. Am I still me, River? You're the only one I can ask… the only one who knows."

The sad smile that graced her features only made her look more beautiful. "That's why I can't tell you."

"I might not even survive. No change, nothing," the Doctor said, staring off into space over River's head. "Four knocks, and then… all of time rewritten?"

She was looking worried now, and propped herself up on her arm. "Doctor, what's wrong?" she said, her voice almost a sigh.

The Doctor nearly told her. He truly, really, definitely, nearly did. Four knocks, the gate, all the theories, the possibilities, the horrible, horrible truth that he knew was coming, that he was running away from…

And then he remembered who he was, and his number one thing. Live for the moment. To hell with those knocks.

"You know… I think we need to dance. Dancing's good, I like dancing. I'm a brilliant dancer."

"I know," she said, and the Doctor loved her so much more for just accepting the change of subject. "Spoilers."

Grinning, the Doctor leapt up to his feet and held a hand down to her.

"What about the food?"

"Nah, eat later. Work up an appetite."

She took his hand, and he pulled her up, their foreheads almost touching. "There's no music," she said.

"Hang on," he mumbled, and pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, holding it up in the air and wandering around as he searched for the correct frequency. After some squealing and crackling, Glenn Miller echoed out. Luckily the park was closed at the moment, so there was no-one to protest. "Brilliant. Only in the 51st century could you find an all Glenn Miller, all the time radio station."

He excitedly wedged the screwdriver into the grass beside his coat, the glowing tip shining upwards, delivering the ancient song up to the stars.

The Doctor stood in front of her and offered out his hand. She took it, and they held each other close. She rested her head against his shoulder. He smelled her hair. A low breath of a laugh escaped him.

"Bananas."

"I like bananas," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "Bananas are good."

They danced like that for awhile, swaying contentedly with the music, nothing but the Asgard lights flashing and swirling above them to show any passage of time.

"I danced to this music a long time ago. Lifetimes."

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Actually, she reckoned I couldn't dance."

"Ah, well, now," she pulled back, arms round his neck. "We both know _that's _not true."

He smiled, and so did she. He cast his gaze over the picnic, to the Asgard sky, and then back to her.

"How about we finish the picnic and the dancing in the TARDIS?"

She gasped. "You _can _read minds."

So they packed up the picnic and left Asgard hand in hand. It was nice to have a hand to hold again. Unfortunately, he had parked the TARDIS quite a distance away from the Asgard Park section of the city, so they had been forced to get a taxi. As they waited on the corner, River checked her watch and groaned.

"I don't know if we'll be able to get a taxi at this hour."

He looked at her curiously. "Why, what time is it?"

"2 AM," she sighed. "This part of town's quite out of the way, people only come here for the park." The Doctor smiled, and she looked at him like he was mad. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, "just reminded me of something. From a long time ago."

A taxi did arrive in the end. The Doctor and River Song. Two in the morning. Getting a taxi home.

* * *

_One Again_

The Doctor slammed the TARDIS doors shut behind River Song, and whirled to face Amy. He stared at her for a long time before running to the console,

"Explain," she said, as if it were that simple. As if River Song could be explained in a single, throwaway sentence. "Who is she and how did she do that museum thing?"

Ah, well, that explanation would end up being more than one sentence.

"It's a long story, and I don't know most of it," he said dismissively, working the controls. "Off we go."

Amy zoomed up to him. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving. She's got where she wants to go, let's go where we want to go."

They needed to leave. He needed to get away from River Song, and never see her again. His previous face had been a safety barrier, because he knew she wouldn't say goodbye to him when he was that man.

"Are we basically running away?" Amy mocked, pouting.

"Yeah."

Her demeanour changing, Amy demanded, "Why?"

"Because she's the future, my personal future."

But now he was new. He could be the man she knew as the Doctor, the one who would have a red setting on his sonic screwdriver, who would tell her his name, and would finally, with tears in his eyes, say goodbye, handing over a lifeline he would use to save her.

"And you want to run away from that," Amy said, not phrasing it like a question.

"I can run away from anything I like. Time is not the boss of me."

Not to mention, she was embarrassing him. A lot. He had only just started showing Amy the wonders of the universe. She thought he could do no wrong, that he was brilliant and fantastic. He was the Raggedy Doctor, her fairytale fantasy come to life.

Didn't need someone coming along and showing her that he's a fallible, normal bloke. That wouldn't do. Not just that, but she was showing him up, as well! Blue stabilisers. The nerve. And what exactly was the point if the TARDIS didn't make the noise?

"Hang on, is that a planet out there?"

"Yes, of course it's a planet," he replied irritably. What a question. Then he realised where she was going with this, and he got ready to say that simple, single syllable word, 'no'.

Holding an excited hand in front her face, Amy pointed at him. "You promised me a planet. Five minutes?"

Then Amy gave him that look. That look of 'please can we go outside and have fun on an alien planet?'. It was a very specific look.

Teeth clenched, finger raised, he was ready to protest, to tell her he knew better, that this could only lead to bad things. Bad things followed him everywhere, no matter his face.

"Okay," he gasped, relenting. "Five minutes."

"Yes!" Amy shot off towards the door, and he shouted after her as he followed. Blimey, he was all Oncoming Storm signifying nothing these days.

"But that's all! Because I'm telling you now, that woman is not dragging me into anything!"

But she was. He knew she was. And he was terrified.

Because he knew he'd never say no.

Bloody women.

* * *

(A/N: Yeah, the more I wrote this, the more it became obvious to me that the Library was the only time the Doctor met River Song in his tenth incarnation. The whole thing just feels neater and makes more sense, character wise. Then again, Mr Moffat himself has implied that maybe the Doctor and River _did _meet sometime before 'The Time of Angels'. And it makes her thinking he would remember the Byzantium when they meet in the Library make a little more sense.

Ah, what the hell. It's fan-fiction, damn it, and I wanted a 2009 special with the Doctor and River Song, all flirting and bantering so he would forget about all that 'four knocks' business for a bit and just enjoy himself. It would have been good.

Anyway, reviews please!)


	4. Limitless Potential

Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who. _Or _Half-Life_, for that matter.

_**Limitless Potential**_

Amy strode after the Doctor with her usual confidence, leaving Rory to follow on, trying to peer around her head at what exactly the Time Lord was doing at the door. They had just been off to see some giant egg in a random corner of the universe that hatched and then closed again. The Doctor had said 'So really, the chicken _and _the egg were first!' and then got moody when no-one laughed. They hadn't even known it was a joke.

His mood had, predictably, improved when the TARDIS suddenly jolted from side to side, nearly throwing Amy off the balcony before Rory caught her. Without even saying anything, the Doctor had sprinted - properly _sprinted_, no weird quirks or anything - to the doors, and ripped them open, sticking his head out.

Amy put her hands on the Doctor's shoulders as she tried to look over his head. He whirled around on the spot and stood on tiptoes to block her view.

"No, none of that, not for you!" he announced, his tone reminding Rory of his dad trying to stop him looking at certain magazines when he was younger.

"What?" Amy scoffed, not used to the word 'no'. She moved up and down and to the sides to try and see outside, each time blocked by the Doctor's sizeable head. "Why?"

"It's not supposed to exist."

"…but is does exist. Because we're here."

"Yes, and," he said breathlessly, finally slamming the door shut with his leg, "that's why we need to go." The Doctor sped past them both and to the console. "Got here by accident, so now we should just apologise, tidy up, and-"

But Amy was gone.

Rory looked at the Doctor. "Yeah, never leave the door unlocked."

His eyes up so high they could have rolled up into his head, the Doctor sighed. "Yeah…"

Worried about Amy (and yeah, pretty excited too), Rory pointed a thumb towards the doors. "So we should, uh…"

"Yes, yes," the Doctor said resignedly, strolling over and walking through the doors with him. "But not too long, we're doing bad stuff to all of existence just by being here."

"Yeah, but Doctor…" Amy said from outside, her voice echoing. "There's nothing out here."

There really wasn't. It was just… blackness, everywhere. And yet they were standing, and the TARDIS was resting, on some kind of ground. Rory bent to the side and poked the floor. It felt solid, cool and smooth like glass, just without the resistance or the squeaky feeling. What was more, Rory could see Amy and the Doctor and TARDIS, and yet there was no light. Like they were paintings on a black canvas.

"Exactly," the Doctor said, wagging a finger at her as he walked over. "There's nothing. It's a no-place. Doesn't exist. And yet, it does. Impossible. I love it, it's great, but it's also very dangerous, so we should really go now."

"Hang on." Amy was frowning at something behind Rory and the TARDIS. "What's that?"

Leaving a frustrated Doctor tromping behind, Amy walked past Rory, who followed diligently. It would take a lot more than some impossible no-place to stop him following Amy now.

"Who… is that?" she asked, sounding impressed.

"Oh," the Doctor cooed, grinning and studying the man stood in front of them.

Rory sidestepped around the Doctor, leaving the Time Lord between himself and Amy. They were studying a man, frozen in place, like a toy soldier. He was about their age, maybe a little older. A weird space suit was wrapped around him, covered in orange armour plating and a Latin symbol plastered on the chest. He wore thick, black-rimmed glasses, at odds with the goatee. Rory stroked his chin contemplatively.

"Don't even think about it," Amy warned. "Already seen you with a ponytail, that's more than enough."

"You said you liked it in the end."

"Yeah, _after _you cut it off."

He gaped. Before he could think of any words to match his shock, the Doctor chuckled to himself, skipping around the man with glee. "Oh-ho-ho, this is brilliant! Look at him! He's here! Being all… here and full of… here-ness!"

Rory scratched his cheek. "Sorry, who is he?"

"Who is he?" the Doctor scolded, aghast. "Who is he? _He_ is one of the most important events in the history of… life, the universe, and, and…"

"Everything?" Amy finished, smiling.

"But he's just a person," Rory said. "I mean, he's in a space suit, but…"

"It's not a space suit, it's a HEV suit," the Doctor said irritably.

Amy nudged him. "Yeah, a HEV suit, Rory. Obviously."

"And he's not just a person. He's _the _person. The One Free Man," the Doctor whispered, full of worship.

"Is he sleeping?" Rory asked, reaching over to take a pulse.

The Doctor slapped his hand away. "He's frozen in time, moving at a different rate than the rest of us. Touch him and you'll become part of his time stream."

"And that would be bad."

"That would be bad, yes."

"This is really weird," Amy said, smirking at the Doctor as Rory backed up to stand beside her.

"What is?" the Doctor said, eyes still on the man.

"You. You're all… nerdy. Like Rory when he met Derren Brown."

Rory felt his cheeks redden considerably, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I just… like magicians."

"Oh, who doesn't?" the Doctor said absent-mindedly.

Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Okay, so why is he so important?"

"This," the Doctor announced, like a museum tour guide, "is Doctor Gordon Freeman. Quite simply, he's an event in time and space. This man has realities _created_ around him, just by being… him."

"So," Rory pointed a finger upwards, "Is this place one of those realities?"

"What?" he scowled, "No. _This _is a no-place. Doesn't exist, does exist, impossibly possible. We're in a moment between moments, suspended in time but stretching out to infinity…"

Amy and Rory looked at each other with mutual confusion. He decided it was best to speak up. "And… what does that mean, exactly?"

"Don't know." The Doctor grinned. "Sounded good, though."

"But if he's so important, how come I don't know who he is?" Amy sighed. "Is this because of that crack in my wall again?"

Frustrated, the Doctor waved his hands about. "No, no, no, nothing to do with that. Aren't you listening? He has realities created _around _him. He _was _part of our timeline, but at one specific moment, everything fractured, an event almost as powerful as the TARDIS explosion. Bang, brand new reality made just for him. Well, not for _him _specifically, but he's the focal point, the trigger, the ignition. But oh, the things he does! I can't believe I'm here looking at him!"

"Wait, hang on," Rory managed, struggling. "If he's in another reality, how do you know about him?"

He spotted something behind the Doctor as he spoke. A white doorway, opening up out of nothingness.

The Doctor didn't notice. "Ah, well, he's Gordon Freeman. He's a fact of the universe. You know, for example, there's gravity, light, time, the John Crichton apex principle, speed, cause and effect, wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey… and then there's Gordon Freeman. He really is remarkable. Impossibly average. Or averagely impossible, both sound good."

A man stepped out of the doorway, silhouetted by the intense white behind him. Then the light disappeared, slamming down to the ground like a door closing. It let out a deep metallic clang, and the Doctor whirled around.

Amy put a hand on Rory's arm as the new arrival slowly walked around Gordon Freeman to get a better look at them. He was an older man, black and grey hair with a blue business suit, not a crease out of place. He carried a blank briefcase in his pale hand, and Rory felt a little surge of fear every time he looked at it. But his face was the most haunting thing. Dark eyes, dark circles beneath them, like he hadn't slept in weeks… and yet he didn't look tired. Pretty much the opposite. He was acutely aware of everything, taking in all of them with a smirk that really made him wish he had his old Roman sword.

"Ah," the man croaked, his voice deep and velvety. "I _thought _I heard some_one _in here…"

"Yes," the Doctor said slowly. "Here we are."

The man's gaze whipped over to the Doctor's. "You _have_… changed…"

"Not in the ways that matter," the Doctor said, his own voice going lower, as though to match his opponent. "The ways that stopped you before."

"Woah, wait," Amy protested, pointing a gloved finger at the man. "You know him?" Suddenly, the icy blue gaze was upon them, and Amy retracted the finger. "Never mind."

"We had… _much_ in com_mon _be_fore…"_

Rory frowned. Why was he talking like that? All that emphasis on the wrong syllables, and yet he was pronouncing everything well, so it wasn't a matter of misunderstanding the language.

The Doctor seemed used to it, however, and relaxed, smirking in the same way Rory had seen him when talking to the Atraxi, or to the assembled hordes of aliens above Stonehenge. "Yeah, well, times have changed, and so have I. Not so much for you though, it seems," he said, nodding to Freeman.

The man smiled. "These are _extra_ordinary times, Doc_tor… _the wrong _man _in the right _place_… can make all the _differ_ence in the world."

"…yes," the Doctor muttered, looking back at the two of them with a 'whatever the hell that means' look. "Very profound and poetic. Doesn't change the fact that what you did was ridiculously dangerous. Your little… _stunt_ could have ended the universe. Past, present, and future."

"Mmm…" the man considered, looking rather amused by the comment. "Not com_pletely _diff_erent_ to your_self, _hm_? _An a_poca_lyptic cata_clysm_… comman_deer_ing humanity for your own _purpo_ses…"

His gaze drifted over to Amy and Rory, and they both took an instinctive step back. It was a rare experience, having Amy back away from something new _with _him. Usually he was trying to stop her from touching something or shouting at something that was clearly going to eat her or spit acid on her or… do general bad stuff.

Moving between them, the Doctor fixed him with a glare and tone of voice that always managed to unnerve Rory - really made him seem like the alien he was.

"You don't touch them. They're nothing to do with you. Neither was _he_, come to think of it," he added, jabbing a finger over at Gordon Freeman.

"Still," the man purred, "there is _al_ways room for _more…"_

The Doctor called over his shoulder. "Rory, Amy, back to the TARDIS, we're leaving."

Rory nodded his vehement agreement and started moving. Or tried to, anyway.

"Um, Doctor," Amy chimed in, doing a little wave. "Can't move."

"No, nor me," Rory added.

Rather than look back at them, the Doctor put up a silencing hand, his gaze locked on the man in the suit. "I know what you're doing, and you're going to stop."

The man's face wrinkled into a chilling smile. "You _must_ have cho_sen _them for a rea_son_… imag_ine_ what _they _could ac_comp_lish… the _ser_vices they could _of_fer…"

Services? What kind of services? Rory frowned. Those words hadn't come out. His mouth hadn't even moved. Nothing was working.

"Yes," the Doctor said, slipping his hands into his pockets, "they are pretty special. They'd probably do more damage than even you could expect, and do you know why?"

The man's head tilted to the side, amused. "En_light_en me."

"Because you're right, I did choose them for a reason. Because your circus tricks don't work on me. And because no matter how you move them and where you send them, I will _tear down _your realities, your voids, your no-places, your very _world _to find them. All of it will come crashing down around your ears, and just because you wanted to prove how clever you are."

He moved in closer to the man. "Remember what happened last time, remember who I am. They had to build the strongest prison in the world to get rid of me, and that ended up causing the end of the universe. And then I got out anyway." His head tilted to the side, mimicking the man's earlier amused reaction. "Or did your 'employers' miss that?"

The man held his stare for the longest time, the smile frozen. Then, suddenly, Rory could move. So could Amy, though neither of them made a move one way or the other.

"Amy? Rory?" the Doctor called over his shoulder. "How are we doing?"

"Uh…" Amy hesitated, and Rory looked at her, concerned. She was shaking, and so was her voice. "Fine, yeah," she finished, though she was gripping Rory's hand like a vice.

"Good. Back to the TARDIS, spit-spot, chop-chop, and lots of other words that mean do it quickly, right now, straight away."

The Doctor backed up, keeping his eyes on the man until he was right in front of them, turning on the spot to usher them back into the TARDIS. They obeyed, though neither of them felt secure enough to take their eyes off the man until they were inside the TARDIS. Rory had never been so grateful to be bathed in the orange lights of the console room, surrounded by the low hum of the TARDIS engines.

"Nice to see you," the Doctor called out, sticking his head out of the doors of the TARDIS. "I'd shake your hand, but I think you've got something, might be catching."

"_Per_haps we shall _see _each _oth_er ag_ain…"_

"Yeah, hope not." He looked over in the direction the Gordon Freeman bloke had been standing. "Sorry to leave you," he muttered quietly. "See you earlier."

With that, he closed the door and ran for the console, twisting taps and pulling levers with a frantic energy beyond anything Rory had seen from him, at least within the TARDIS. The engine started, and both Rory and Amy slumped down into the chairs beside the console.

The Doctor, however, didn't stop his work, periodically checking the monitors and changing settings for a good five minutes before he finally stepped back, looking up at the column unsurely.

"Right, right… I think that's done it…"

Frowning, Amy leant forward. "Think it's done what?"

"We made a hole when we entered, and I had to seal it after we left, or… lots of stuff would have happened."

"What, like the universe never existing?"

"Worse. Bad things would have happened and the universe would have kept on going, suffering and fracturing and…" He blew out a breath, running his thumbs up and down his braces. "Yeah, bad stuff."

"So, sorry," Rory chimed in, "who was that?"

"Yeah," Amy agreed, before hitting his belly with the back of her hand. "Actually, yeah! Who was that?"

"Oh, just someone I know," he muttered dismissively with a wave of his hand.

"Yeah, but he was creepy, Doctor. Not just Weeping Angels creepy, he was…" Her words died as she scratched the back of her head, making a mess of her hair. "…well, yeah, he was creepier than that."

Feeling it was a good moment to do so, Rory put an arm around her and gently pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closed.

"So probably best not to ask," the Doctor said definitively, giving them a look that ended the conversation. "The more you think about it, the worse he gets."

Rory frowned. "'It'? I thought he was a… 'he'?"

"Did I say it? I meant he. He, he, he. Like a little schoolgirl giggling. Onomatopoeia, that's what that's called. Woof, meow, moo, conflordlesploosh, that sort of thing."

Amy's head sprang up from his shoulder, incredulous. "Oh, come on. What kind of animal goes con… con…"

"Conflordlesploosh, glad you asked, I'll show you!"

And just like that, they were off again, tumbling through time and space and heading towards some other deadly threat and adventure. But for Rory, it didn't really matter how dangerous things became. He had Amy. And yes, he had the Doctor with him too.

With all of them together, that made all the difference in the world.

* * *

(A/N: Sorry to those of you who don't know the first thing about _Half-Life_, but I've had this ficlet buzzing away in the back of my mind since the Doctor was travelling with Martha. Three years it's taken me to type this one up!

Anyway, hopefully it wasn't too obscure for those of you who don't know _Half-Life._

So, reviews, please!)


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